


Grace

by likeawildpotato



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Fried Chicken, M/M, Religion, church, church potlucks, finding community, they're the third sacrament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:39:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeawildpotato/pseuds/likeawildpotato
Summary: Link is anxious about attending a church potluck with his husband, Rhett. Is there a place for them here?





	Grace

Having stowed four orange boxes of fried chicken in the back floorboard, Rhett and Link climbed into their car and pulled out of the Publix parking lot. Link tapped the steering wheel nervously as they headed toward the east side of town.

“Hey.” Rhett rested a hand on Link’s knee, cocking his head as he studied his husband’s furrowed brow. “You OK, bo?”

“Just...nervous.” Link let out a long breath. “It’s one thing to sit in the back pew a few Sundays. But going to a potluck, talking to people, letting everyone see that we’re a couple...” His voice trailed off.

Rhett nodded and squeezed Link’s knee. “I know, man. I get it.” 

They hadn’t attended church together in years, not since coming out in college. The church near campus they attending since the beginning of freshman year was clearly not going to welcome them anymore, and then the dirty looks they got around town when they visited back home...well, they had come to expect that most Christians didn’t have space in their faith for two men who loved each other. They hadn’t completely given up on God, but they had all but given up on the church.

Link had heard from a co-worker at IBM about a different kind of church. It was in a part of town they didn’t frequent, squeezed between a liquor store and a ramshackle apartment house. People came to worship in jeans. Members tutored kids from the neighborhood Title I school, ran a soup kitchen once a week out of the fellowship hall, and attended rallies and marches for progressive causes. 

“Do you remember what you said the first Sunday we went?” Rhett asked Link. “About the flag?”

Link smiled wistfully at the memory of first noticing the small rainbow flag painted on the bottom left corner of the church sign. “Yeah,” he replied softly. “I said that maybe God has a place for us after all.”

Rhett nodded. “I believe that, Link. I’ve always believed that.” He looked up as Link pulled into a parallel parking spot on the street in front of the church. “And I think these people might have a place for us, too. Let’s at least give them the chance.”

They walked into the church, both of them holding a box of fried chicken in each hand. Other people were depositing their food on a long table at the side of the room and greeting one another with hugs and laughter.

“Rhett! Link!” They turned to see Jen, a warm young woman with multicolored hair who they had chatted with a couple of times during the passing of the peace. She was walking in behind them with her young son, who carried a dish of baked macaroni and cheese and smiled shyly at the men. “So glad y’all are here. Come on, let’s put our food down. I want you to meet some people.”

They met Elle, a talented young artist who had painted the colorful murals of Jesus and the disciples that stood in for stained glass windows in the modest sanctuary. “Be sure you try Jenna’s roasted veggies,” she loudly stage whispered as Jenna walked up. “She’s really proud of them.” Jenna elbowed Elle good-naturedly as she welcomed the men with hugs.

“Hey, everyone!” called a familiar voice from the front of the room. Pastor Charlotte beamed at the group. She wore a purple denim jacket with what Link recognized as a bisexual pride flag pin on the lapel. Suddenly the tension that had remained in his shoulders melted away, and he reached over to take Rhett’s hand with an ease usually reserved for the privacy of their home.

“I want to welcome all our brothers and sisters in Christ, friends old and new —” she winked and nodded at Rhett and Link “— who are gathered here tonight. As we break bread together, let us remember that we do so around the table of the Lord.” She paused for a beat, then smiled again. “And _everyone_ has a place at this table.”

“Everyone has a place at this table,” most of the room echoed back. Link looked up at Rhett, who smiled softly and squeezed his hand. As they bowed their heads and Pastor Charlotte offered thanks, Link felt nothing but grace.


End file.
